Live Die Repeat
by Professor R.J Lupin1
Summary: Legend Lepidus, a tired boy from District 5, honestly doesn't care that he's been reaped. If he dies, so what? Dying is fine. And die is what he does - his head topples to the ground fifteen seconds into the Games. Suddenly, Legend finds himself back on the train, alive and well. He's about to find out just how much he has to live for. SYOT Closed.
1. Nothing More Than Apathy

**A/N: So it has been a **_**hot**_** second**__**since I've started a chapter with an A/N. **

**You're probably saying "Amanda, why are you starting another SYOT? You're already writing the Bloodiest Place on Earth!" Well, yes, I am. And that will always be my priority. But this idea has been nagging me for a while now and I decided to actually go through with it! Yay for myself, giving myself a larger workload!**

**And why yes, I am going to put song lyrics in place of POV markers in this story. If you don't like Hamilton lyrics, you might want to stop reading, since that's going to be ninety percent of what I use, because I'm an obsessed little gremlin who shoves my interests into other peoples' faces. **

_**Attempt #1**_

_It's coming down to nothing more than apathy  
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see  
The smoke, and who's still standing when it clears_

_**TW for suicidal thoughts**_

Can you imagine it? Can you imagine how it feels to care so little about your own wellbeing, about your own health, about your own _life_, that you wouldn't care if your name was the one plucked from that cursed glass bowl tomorrow? Can you imagine how it feels to be consumed by that apathy, that feeling of hopelessness and carelessness and emptiness? Can you imagine it? Maybe you can. Maybe you can't. Maybe you're already stuck in that hole.

Legend Lepidus is locked firmly in the third option. It's really all he has ever known. Ever since he came of Reaping age, he has woken up on the same day that everyone else dreads with an extra spring in his step. Maybe this will be his year! Maybe this will be the year that the escort finally pulls his name out of that bowl. Maybe this will be his chance to end it all, without feeling like he did something wrong.

He's never going to volunteer. He doesn't hate himself _that_ much. And besides, if he volunteers, people are going to give him attention. He's going to be thrust into the spotlight, which is never something he wants. No, Legend is content to blend into the background. Hopefully, one day soon, he'll just fade into nothingness.

And, if he volunteered, it would still be suicide. That's not what he wants. If he were to die, maybe he would prefer to be not his fault. That doesn't stop him from considering it, day after day after day.

So, no. Dying does not scare him. Being forgotten does not scare him. In fact, it entices him. The sooner he can cease to exist, the better.

It's strange, though. Every day, long before dawn, Legend has shown up at this bridge. He sits on the ledge and looks at the dirty canal below him. It's dark, churning, and oh god does he want to lean forward and fall. He dreams of feeling weightless for the few long moments it would take him to reach the water, but at the same time…

…he doesn't?

There is always something that pulls him back from the edge. There is always something that nags at him, tells him to live for just one more day. Maybe it's his conscience, the only thing in his body still fighting for life. The rest of him has already given up, ready to hit the water before he ever even arrives at the bridge.

Even now, as he sits on the ledge, the stone cool even though his worn jeans, he contemplates it. He stares down at the water and wonders what it would feel like to hit it. What kind of splash would he make? Is the water cold or warm? How dirty is it?

But there is something that pulls him back. That little voice in his head, his conscience, probably—it reminds of him tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow will be the day his name gets pulled out of that bowl. And then there will be no take backs. There will be second thoughts. He'll die if his name comes out of the bowl and oh god does that thought entice him.

He _wants_ to end it. He _wants_ to die. But at the same time…he _doesn't_. It's not that death scares him or something. He'll die eventually, right? Even though he _wants_ death now but he can't have it…or maybe he could have it, if he had the courage to pitch himself off a bridge one morning…

Every day. Around and around and around his mess of a mind goes. He'll jump, but he won't jump. He won't go, but he will go. He'll leave, but he won't leave. He'll stay, but he won't stay. He will die, but he won't die.

Nothing ever makes sense, and it's infuriating. Legend misses when things made sense, but honestly, that was so long ago he doesn't really remember it. What did it feel like to think about something and have it make clear-cut sense? Just about everything in Legend's head nowadays is as clear as mud.

After a long while, Legend swings his legs back around and steps off the bridge. The moment his feet reach solid ground, it's like his entire body heaves a large sigh. Another day, another failure.

He slowly makes his way back to the Community Home. It's been his home for as long as he can remember. Well, not "home", per say. He has never considered it to be "home". It's more of…the building where he sleeps and eats. Sure, he returns to it every day, but that's only because they provide him with food.

It might have been sixteen years that Legend has lived in the Community Home. He is certain, at least, that he knew one of his parents long enough for them to name him. If a kid ends up at the Community Home with no name mentioned, ninety-percent of the time they'll be dubbed something extremely creative, as in "John", "Jane", "James", or "Emma". The amount of boys he knows that are named John…

Legend has always thought his name was extremely ironic. The last thing he wants in life is to go down as a legend. He'd honestly prefer to die and have no one ever mention his name again. Everyone else is desperate to be remembered, yet here Legend stands, clawing to be forgotten. The terror that others feel about having nothing left when they're gone is a welcome thought to Legend. God, the things he wouldn't give to just disappear.

It's just strange for him to think that there are people who really, truly fear dying. That there are people out there who are terrified being reaped, of dying young, of being forgotten. There are people out there who aren't horrified by the thought that others think about them.

Legend fiddles with the doorknobs on the outside of the Community Home for a moment before he dejectedly raises his fist and knocks. After a moment, the door creaks open to reveal a small girl (probably named Emma or Jane). Legend pays her no attention as he enters the building. He's pretty sure that most people know about his early morning visits to the bridge. It's not exactly his favorite thought. Does the girl who opened the door ever think about him? He sincerely hopes not. But maybe people think about him all of the time…or maybe people think about him going to the bridge every morning? Maybe people will continue to think about him after he's dead?

It's literally one of the last things that Legend wants. The thought of people thinking about him often makes him feel…gross, almost? He knows people who love to have the spotlight on them, but it makes Legend feel disgusting. He just feels dirty when he thinks someone is thinking about him. He has this inane need to wash his hands at the mere thought of someone picturing his face. It was all just so…so…so disgusting! God, it's appalling, it's horrifying, it makes his vision blur and his hands shake. It makes him want to scream and rip out his hair. People thought about him, people looked at him and remembered his face and…gah. It just makes his head spin. It doesn't make sense, but it's not like anything else ever has.

**A/N: So yeah, I guess I'm really going through with this then. I'm probably going to regret posting this in, like, a week. Anyways, this SYOT is clearly going to be unconventional, but hopefully it's something interesting and different. **

**The idea basically came from the movie Edge of Tomorrow, because I watched that and decided to apply it to the Hunger Games. Because why not? **

_**Anyways**_**, this SYOT is more or less first come, first served. I just don't see a point to take more submissions than I need for this story, since it's not a main thing. The rest of the rules will just be on profile, because I'm far too lazy to type them out now. I'm not going to use google forms either because, again, I'm too lazy to make another one of those. **

**Alright, so if you're interested, great. If you're not, that's fine too. **

**-Amanda**


	2. Like a Memory

_**Still Attempt #1**_

_I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory  
Is this where it gets me, on my feet, sev'ral feet ahead of me?  
I see it coming, do I run or fire my gun or let it be?  
There is no beat, no melody_

The morning of the Reapings dawns bright and sunny. The sky is a lovely cerulean blue, dotted with cheerful white clouds. The sun sits on the horizon, grinning at passerby with its bright rays of happiness. To almost every other child of Reaping age in District 5, it feels inappropriate. To Legend, however, it feels like a good omen. Maybe today is the day.

And so, Legend smiles with the sunshine as he makes his way to the Reaping with the legion of Community Home kids. To an outsider, Legend probably looks crazy. To Legend, he looks…well, crazy.

When he arrives at the square, he barely notices the bored looking Peacekeeper take his blood in his haze of…hope? It's an emotion he doesn't really know how to name, but hope is probably as close as it's going to get. Hope for…what, though? Hope for death? Hope for a chance at a better life? He's not quite sure, but it's more than likely the former.

For the first time in many months, Legend didn't visit the bridge this morning. It didn't feel good. It didn't feel freeing. It felt awful. He needed to go to the bridge every morning. That's how it works. That's how it always works! He has to go to the bridge, but he didn't today. He couldn't, what with the Reapings. But, with any luck, he'll never have the chance to go to the bridge again.

"Hello, hello, hello!" the escort, Avanna Courtier, chirps as she comes onto the stage. "and welcome to the Reapings for the Two-Hundred, Fifty-Second Annual Hunger Games! I'm Avanna Courtier, District 5's _wonderful_ escort, here to pick us some tributes!"

Legend tunes out to the video and the Treaty of Treason; after all, the document is so old it may as well have been falling apart. Although, the original copy probably disintegrated decades ago.

Silence quickly envelops the crowd as Avanna declares that she's going to choose the female tribute. Legend doesn't really raise his head. It's not important.

"Solana Gepler!" Avanna declares excitedly.

The future corpse is thirteen-years-old; attractive for a girl of her age, with long brown hair, slightly tanned skin and dark eyes. She looks slightly shocked as she makes for the stage, her eyebrows raised and her mouth hanging open. She looks strong, healthy. She looks like someone that you wouldn't count out because of her age.

Avanna looks at Solana with disappoint visible on her face. "Any volunteers? Anyone?" Avanna pauses for a moment. "Seriously? None of you?"

It's so quiet you could likely hear a feather hit the ground, until a strong voice cuts through the silence— "I demand a redraw!"

Legend looks up at this as the boys around him start whispering.

"Um, sir, we don't "redraw"—" Avanna starts, clearly taken aback by this turn of events.

"I am an upstanding man of this society and you cannot take my daughter that easily!" the man continues angrily, now making his way through the crowd of onlookers. Legend stares at him with tired eyes, wondering how it's possible to care for someone that much.

_Oh_, he thinks. _She's his daughter. That's boring. _

"Sir, being Reaped is binding unless someone steps forward as a volunteer," Avanna says, clearly feigning calmness. "Now, if you're done, we can move on—"

"I demand a redraw!" the man shouts again, swinging over the rope separating the reaping eligible from the viewers. "That's my daughter! That's my daughter!"

Legend's shoulders droop as Peacekeepers converge on the man with tasers in their hands. Same old, same old. It never changes. Time after time after time, tributes are Reaped, and they die. Undoubtedly, Solana will be no different.

"Well, yes, welcome Solana!" Avanna stammers, gesturing to the girl standing numbly on the stage as if people may actually care. As per usual, there is no applause. No one cares. Certainly not Legend. He doesn't even care about himself. Why he would care about some random girl who will be a corpse in a matter of days? "Let's move on to the boys, then!"

Avanna prances over to the boys' bowl with a renewed spring in her step. She carefully examines the slips before plucking one from deep within. With that, she returns to the microphone and says, "Legend Lepidus!"

_Legend Lepidus_.

For a moment, the world stops spinning as Legend takes it in. It happened. It actually happened.

_Legend Lepidus_.

He's finally going to get what he wants. This is the best day of his life.

Legend bounds for the stage, treading the same path that so many of the dead and gone have, but without the same heaviness in his heart. Oh god, he's so relieved. He's finally going to _die_. It's going to feel so good, the release, the end, the silence, the dark, the absolute absence of _something_!

As Legend steps onto the stage, he breathes out a heavy sigh. This is it. This is where he finally gets his sweet, sweet release…

"Welcome, Legend!" Avanna says overly-cheerfully, eyeing him strangely. She bids them to shake hands; Solana's grip is harsh and strong, stronger than he'd imagine from a girl of her age. Her eyes don't give off the same sentiment; she stares him down, her head cocked to the side slightly as if she's a confused dog. "Let's have a round of applause for our two wonderful tributes from District 5, Solana Gepler and Legend Lepidus!"

With that, they are swept into the Justice Building. As Legend takes in one of the last views of District 5 that he'll ever see, he can't say he's going to miss this place much. The overwhelming sense of relief has easily taken the place of any feelings of nostalgia or homesickness.

He can hear the sounds of crying from Solana's room beside him, but as expected, not a soul comes to visit him. He calmly takes a seat in one of the plush chairs and leans back, situating himself comfortably. Soon, absolutely no one will know his name. Legend Lepidus will go down as another headstone in the Tributes' Graveyard; the place is practically overflowing by this far into the Games. He'll be forgotten. He'll simply cease to exist, and it is going to be _glorious_.

It's not long before someone bangs open the door and escorts him out to the car. He notices Solana's face is stained with tears, but her face is stony and her eyes steely with determination. He wonders what exactly went on in her goodbye room.

Avanna starts rambling about something or another, but Legend tunes her out. She obviously thinks her tributes have no chance, and she isn't wrong: a little thirteen-year-old girl and a suicidal sixteen-year-old boy. Because, after all, it's a game of life and death, and it's a game that Legend and Solana are going to lose.

**A/N: So it's been a while since I last updated this, but that's not going to be uncommon. This story is, as I have said previously, not my first priority. I will always focus on the Bloodiest Place on Earth, and any SYOT to follow, so don't be surprise if there are gaps in between updates here. **

**But, anyways, we have met our first reader-submitted tribute, Solana! We didn't see a lot of her, but there will be, of course, more to come!**

**On the topic of reader-submitted tributes, I'm going to leave any spot reserved still closed until the twentieth of January. Then I'll open them back up for anyone who wants it. **

**Alright, that's about it. I don't know when the next update will be, but I will see you then!**

**-Amanda**


	3. Do You Tear Yourself Apart

_**STILL Attempt #1**_

_**TW for Suicidal Thoughts **_

___Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?__  
__Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?__  
__Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?_

Legend can't remember a time when he's eaten anything but tesserae grain, dirty-looking water and tasteless gruel from the Community Home mess hall. But, then again, food doesn't really taste like anything to him anymore. Everything is about as nice as chewing on straw.

He can imagine that most Community Home kids would be completely floored by the spread of food in front of them, but he can't find it in himself to care. It doesn't matter. Nothing does.

He carelessly sweeps past Solana, Avanna and their mentors, ignoring any attempts that they make to chase him down. If their mentors are smart, they'll put all of their focus on Solana. She's the only one in the room who is willing to do anything to win. She's the only one with any chance and any care to take that chance.

The voices of Avanna and their mentors follow him from the train car, but he doesn't look back. He doesn't care about them. They shouldn't care about him.

The long, straight hallway of the train is quiet as Legend walks down it. He's not exactly sure where he's going, or if there is anywhere to go. He just starts walking and his feet keep moving. He walks and walks and walks with no particular destination in mind, wondering how long this train is and if it would be advantageous to throw himself off of the roof.

Eventually he finds himself at the back of the train, and, as if in a trance, he pulls open the door and sits down on the very edge of the car with his legs dangling over the track. He shuts the door behind him, leaning back against the train car and watching the world whip past him.

He has no intention to jump. But some part of him wonders how it would feel. The thing that keeps him away from it is that he probably wouldn't even die. He'd just break a lot of bones.e hHeeHeHejuofgewahiogfeihwuavdsvda

Time passes without his notice or consent. Before long, the sun has begun to cower behind the hills and shining stars dance overhead.

It's shortly after Legend spots the moon that he becomes aware of someone else's presence. "What do you want?" he asks, his voice quiet and emotionless, barely audible over the whipping wind. He doesn't turn his head, doesn't even bother to check that there really is someone there. Maybe it's just his mind messing with him. Panem knows that's all it ever does anymore.

"I'd like to talk to you," his mentor, Alexandru, says, leaning on the doorframe.

"Well, I wouldn't," Legend replies tiredly, leaning further over the tracks.

"If you're going to throw yourself off, it's not going to work. There's a forcefield between you and the tracks that will bounce you right back up," Alexandru says in a tone that suggests he learned the hard way.

After a moment, Alexandru seems to realize that Legend isn't going to get up. He closes the door and sits down beside Legend. "So, Legend, right?"

Legend slowly nods, still staring out into the darkness left in the train's wake.

"I'm sure that being Reaped is quite a shock and that you might be feeling hopeless but I—"

"Let me stop you there," Legend mumbles, his voice somehow carrying over the wind. "I don't care about being Reaped."

"…you don't?" Alexandru says uncertainly.

"Why would I?" Legend asks, but he doesn't want an answer. He doesn't need an answer from Alexandru, since he already has his own.

"That's a new one," Alexandru says, kicking his legs against the train. "So…is there a reason that you don't care?"

Legend shrugs. Of course there's a reason. There's always a reason. "It's…whatever. Why don't you go talk to Solana? She's the better option, after all."

"Solana is asleep, Legend," Alexandru says. "It's the middle of the night. I came out here to make sure you hadn't pitched yourself off of the train."

"Oh. No, no suicide attempts here today," Legend says, trying to keep the regret out of his voice. It would be so easy to just throw himself off of the train—at least, before Alexandru told him there was a forcefield. It would be quicker. Quicker than waiting for the arena to see who ends up killing him in what way. He's seen some pretty gruesome arena deaths, but at least it's release. To him, he supposes, it doesn't really matter how it happens. As long as this story ends with his face in the sky and the boom of a cannon, he'll be happy. He'll be _dead_.

And it's going to feel so _good_.

"Would you like to talk about strategies?" Alexandru asks.

"Die," Legend says.

"What?" Alexandru splutters, clearly shocked. "Did you say _die_?"

"Yeah," Legend snaps. "So what?"

"So you're of those people," Alexandru says, looking down at the tracks.

"What kind of people?" Legend demands, crossing his arms across his chests.

"The ones who give up." Alexandru's eyes get cloudy as he stares out at the track. Legend looks at him with a nearly-disgusted look on his face. "There's something you should know about the Games, Legend: it never gives people what they want."

With that, Alexandru gets to his feet and heads back inside, prompting Legend to hop to his feet and rush after him. "What's that supposed to mean?" Legend demands, grabbing onto Alexandru's sleeve and pulling him backwards.

"So now you want to talk," Alexandru says tiredly. A few seconds pass before he sighs and says, "You go into that arena wanting to die, and you're going to win. You go into the arena wanting to win, and you're going to die. That's how it works. The Games doesn't care. The Capitol doesn't care. The Gamemakers don't care." He throws off Legend's grip and disappears down the hallway.

Legend's anger quickly dissolves. He dejectedly makes his way down the long hallway until he reaches the room marked "male tribute". Once safely inside with the door locked, Legend sits down on the bed and mulls over Alexandru's words. _It never gives people they want. _

_Well, _Legend thinks. _I'll have to remedy that by simply throwing myself to the mines. _

It'll be quick, it'll be easy, and it will leave no room for him to somehow survive. He'll be deader than a doornail within seconds, and no one will be able to do a damn thing about it. Certainly not Alexandru.

**A/N: More angsty-Legend! But Legend is pretty much always angsty. **

**Also, we almost have a full roster! Once I have all of my tributes, I can really get going here and we won't have to be on Attempt #1 for the next month. Yay!**

**Again, I'm not sure when the next update will be. Also, another thing: it's unlikely that I'm going to do some sort of the Reaping Recap for this. For one thing, Legend himself isn't going to care about who else is Reaped with him (at least for now). And I'd rather introduce the tributes more naturally than just having Legend list if they volunteered or not and what their appearances are. So, it might be a bit before your tribute appears in the spotlight. Don't worry though; everyone will get their time to shine before they inevitably die. **

**-Amanda**


	4. Thinking Maybe You Could Show Me

_**Wow! Still Attempt #1 But We're Getting There**_

_Maybe I should try to find the old me__  
__Take me to the places and the people that know me__  
__Tryin' to disconnect, thinking maybe you could show me__  
__If there's so many people here, then why am I so lonely?_

The first thing Legend notes when he enters the training center is just how cold it is inside. There's a distinct and likely intentional chill hanging in the air, forcing a shiver down Legend's spine as he steps out of the elevator.

He has to spend the majority of the next three days in here? And in the company of twenty-three other teenagers? It sounds like hell in Panem to him.

"Are you okay?" Solana asks from beside him, stopping moving to look at him. She stares at him oddly with either concern or disgust in her eyes—Legend honestly can't tell the difference.

Legend doesn't answer. He simply shrugs and breaks off from Solana, instead making his way toward a bench beside the elevator's doors. He drops heavily on the hard metal, letting his head loll back against the wall.

Another stream of tributes come pouring out of the elevator to his left. He catches sight of the pairs from 7, 3 and 9. The pair from 3 are bickering about something or another—it's not like it matters to Legend. It's not like it matters to anybody.

In the grand scheme of things, who cares about little Legend Lepidus from District 5, who, with any luck, will be dead in a matter of days? No one is going to commiserate the fact that he died, that he was their favorite, that they really hoped he would win. There isn't going to be a single cent in his sponsor fund. Anybody would might want to follow the District 5 Male will go for someone like…like…Aristea, or Stark, or literally anybody but him! They'll go for Solana, probably go for Auburn or Murium or Harley or Tricolette or Hector or literally anybody else before they even glance his way.

It bothers him a surprisingly little amount. But, he supposes, once your life has come to a certain point, you stop being bothered by anything.

Legend stares at the ceiling for a long time, contemplating who will probably end as the Victor. It certainly won't be him. Maybe it will be another Career year. Or Maybe one of the outliers will take it. It doesn't really matter to him; after all, he'll be dead long before a Victor ever comes to pass.

The dull, gray ceiling has started to swirl from Legend staring for so long without blinking when, suddenly, the pair from 3's bickering becomes too loud to ignore.

"Oh, you're just so _adorable_, Lei."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call you what, _Lei_? Hmm, _Lei_? Don't call you what, _Lei_?"

"Stop calling me Lei. Seriously. Stop."

"Give me one good reason why, and I'll consider it."

"Because you're an ass."

"Oh! I'm absolutely _affronted_, Lei. Hey, you! You, random, innocent bystander! Did she call me an _ass_?"

Legend's head whips around, looking to see if maybe Soren is talking to the guy standing next to him, but there isn't a guy standing next to him. "Um…I wasn't listening?" His eyes jump from Leia-Eve to Soren and back again. He wonders if they know each other or something. "Uh, s-should I have been listening?"

"No, you shouldn't have. That's creepy," Leia-Eve says sharply, pointedly glaring at Soren. "Right, _Rennie_? See, I can do it too."

"Go to hell," Soren growls, getting in Leia-Eve's face.

"I will, and I'll save you a seat when I get there."

The ghost of a smile dances on Legend's face for a split second before it slides back into nothingness.

"Ugh," Soren says, stalking off toward the knife-station.

"Good riddance," Leia-Eve says, turning back to Legend. "Sorry you had to witness that. See, I used to work for Soren and just…blah. He's ass. I'm Leia-Eve, by the way. Or L.E.D., my friends call me."

"Legend."

"Cool name," Leia-Eve comments, nodding. "Hey, you're District 5, right?"

"Yes." Legend punctuates the sentence with a tired sigh, letting his head drop back against the wall again.

"5 and 3 are kind of birds of a feather, right?"

Oh no. Legend can see exactly where this is going. "I'm not exactly the kind of person you ally with in the Games, Leia-Eve."

"L.E.D., please. And why is that?" Leia-Eve says, her hands on her hips and her head cocked slightly to the side.

"Well…I'm a bloodbath," Legend says, shrugging.

Leia-Eve laughs for a moment before she seems to realize that Legend isn't joking. "You're…you're _serious_? What makes you a bloodbath?"

"Well, I'm probably going to throw myself to the mines," Legend says nonchalantly, shrugging again. At Leia-Eve's horrified look, he raises his eyebrows and adds, "What? It's what I want."

"You…you…you want to die?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Um, me?" Leia-Eve still has this incredulous look on her face, as her features are perpetually frozen in a state of shock. "Just about everybody in this room?"

"Then why are you talking to me?" Legend snaps, starting to get up.

Leia-Eve snags his sleeve. "Look, man, I just don't want to do this alone."

"If you're so scared of being alone, then why don't you go hang out with Soren?" Legend snarls angrily, crossing his arms. Can't Leia-Eve just take the fucking hint? "Because the way I see it, the less people who know me now, the less people who have to mourn me when I'm gone."

Leia-Eve seems momentarily frozen with shock. Legend takes it as his chance to get away, quickly shoving past her in an attempt to escape her questions that he doesn't want to and doesn't know how to answer.

"So do you wanna ally or not?"

Legend whirls around, ready to chew Leia-Eve out again, but then he drops his arms. "Sure. Whatever. I don't care."

"Great!" Leia-Eve exclaims. "We should have more allies. Let's get more allies."

"O…okay," Legend says. "Who?"

Leia-Eve surveys the training floor before she says, "Let's ask the boy from 10."

"Dallas," Legend mumbles as he trots after her.

They approach Dallas at the water-purification station. He stands there scrutinizing a bowl of water, seeming to not notice them at first.

After a moment of waiting, Leia-Eve says, "Hi! I'm L.E.D. and this is Legend."

"Your name is L.E.D.?" Dallas asks skeptically, setting the bowl of water on the table in front of him.

"Well, it's a nickname," Leia-Eve admits, shrugging. "But anyways…"

Legend finds himself zoning out as Dallas and Leia-Eve continue chatting. _Is this really the right decision? I can always back out. I can always just tell Leia-Eve that isn't what I want and leave. _

He has his mouth half-open to tell Leia-Eve exactly that and walk away forever, but once again, something stops him. Something tells him to close his mouth and cooperate with Leia-Eve and Dallas for the next few days. After all, it will all be over soon.

It's probably his stupid conscience again. It's always causing him problems.

His eyes drift toward the Careers. Aristea is sparring with Raene, both of them playing cutthroat and acting as this is the fight their entire lives have culminated to. Lysander is drifting around the wrestling mats, not seeming to be doing much. Thiago is destroying dummy after dummy with a spear, while Stark watches from the sidelines, juggling with two knives and somehow managing to not cut his hands. Even fourteen-year-old Paris is spending her time proving herself as dangerous and lethal, as she is throwing axes in one of the simulators with deadly accuracy.

Legend swallows thickly at the sight of them. It only enforces his decision to throw himself to the mines—he wants to die, but he'd rather it hurt as little as possible. Throwing himself to the mines will be quick, easy, and hopefully almost-entirely painless. One second, he'll be there. The next, his insides will be splattered on the ground, pedestals, and surrounding tributes. But if he waited for one of the Careers to get a weapon and gut him…it would be long, hard and painful. That's not what he wants.

_But_…if he ends up dead after it's all over, then it will be all worth it.

"…alright. Yeah. I'll ally with you," Dallas says, waking Legend from his stupor.

"Great!" Leia-Eve exclaims again. She wraps an arm around Legend's shoulders, pulls him closer to Dallas, and puts her other arm around him. "I see this as the start of an amazing alliance, guys!"

Legend shrugs her arm off, raises his eyebrows and looks at her skeptically. "Whatever you say, I guess."

Stupid, stupid, stupid conscience.

He follows Leia-Eve and Dallas to the injury-treatment station and tunes out the instructor. He doesn't need to know how to stitch up a wound or identify the symptoms of concussions. He'll be dead, long gone, before any of it would even become potentially useful.

The waiting is probably the worst part. Sure, he's burned a good few hours already, but there still are so many to go.

But he'll be there soon. He'll be gone soon. He'll finally have dropped into the endless, inky black. He won't have to think. He won't have to talk to anybody. He won't even have to _exist_.

He can't wait, but he has to. He just has to be patient.

After all, good things come to those who wait.

Yet, Alexandru's words from the night on train come back to haunt him.

_There's something you should know about the Games, Legend: it never gives people what they want._

But Legend will be different. He'll just throw himself to the mines, just get it over with, and Alexandru will his words. He's sure of it.

He's sure of it.

He's sure of it.

He's sure of it.

…is he?

**A/N: Yeah, I skipped the Tribute Parade. Sue me. **

**Anyways, here we met some more tributes! L.E.D., courtesy of IIJamesII, Soren, from ****DragonoftheStars1429****, and Dallas, made by AlexFalTon. **

**1\. Thoughts on Legend's alliance?**

**2\. Thoughts on Dallas, L.E.D. and Soren?**

**3\. Are you tired of it being Attempt #1 yet?**

**4\. Do you think that Legend will end up throwing himself to the mines?**

**Hopefully, the next update will be out quicker than this one was. I just kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off and putting it off. But it's here now, so that's always a good thing. **

**-Amanda**


	5. Why Can't I Hold On?

_**Almost There But Still Attempt #1**_

_**(TW for suicidal thoughts/actions)**_

_But there, is a light  
In the dark, and I feel its warmth  
In my hands, and my heart  
Why can't I hold on?_

"Legend Lepidus," says the pleasant female voice in the ceiling. Legend quietly gets to his feet, not without noticing Dallas giving him a thumbs up from the back of the room. In reply, Legend resolutely stares at the ground and stiffly walks back into the Training Center.

Once the doors close behind him, his gaze centers on the Gamemakers, sitting high upon their pedestals.

As he slowly walks across the Training Floor, his eyes lazily drift over the various stations. The dummies by the sword-training station are completely decimated. The paints from the camouflage station have been wrecked. Several spears have been displaced.

Legend looks around for a few moments, contemplating. His eyes shift toward the Gamemakers for a second before he walks over a bench and sits down.

After all, he's going to die. He's going to die, and it's going to be glorious. His impending death makes training scores practically arbitrary. And, so, what's the point of him doing anything at all? He's not going to be in the arena long enough for sponsors to be a problem.

It is, oddly enough, the exact bench he sat on two days ago, when he first saw Soren and Leia-Eve arguing with each other.

He catches the Gamemakers looking at him oddly. He can practically _hear_ their thoughts from here; _Isn't he going to do anything?_

_No,_ Legend thinks, almost triumphantly. He needs no score to die. He needs no Gamemaker to tell him how well he can get his throat slit. Besides, no one will bother with the tribute with zero—he will get no bets put on him, no money in his sponsor fund. Not a single person all across Panem will be thinking of him, and it will be amazing.

"Time's up," one the Gamemakers, the Head one, probably, says. "Please leave through the door to you left."

_He really said "please"_, Legend thinks, trying to decide if that's ironic or not.

The first thing he notices when he leaves the Training Floor is that Leia-Eve is sitting there, waiting for something. "Legend! Hi!" She gets to her feet. "How did your session go?"

Legend shrugs. "It happened."

"I think I did alright," Leia-Eve says, sitting back down. "Will you wait with me? It won't be long before Dallas is out too."

"…okay," Legend agrees. He takes a seat beside Leia-Eve and sighs. He glances at Leia-Eve, wondering what's going to happen her. He doesn't see her as a Victor. She's too friendly, too trusting. She'll get herself killed far too easily.

He heaves another dejected sigh and shuts his eyes.

…

"So, I'll see you guys tomorrow at the Interviews?"

"Yep," Dallas says. "See you then."

"Good night, Legend," Leia-Eve adds as she steps out of the elevator onto District 3's floor.

"Night," Legend mumbles, drawing back further into the elevator.

The doors woosh closed, effectively trapping Legend inside with Dallas alone. It's not that Dallas is a problem; he's just never been alone with him before, and no trust has been built between them.

He eyes Dallas nervously, who, in turn, raises his eyebrows at Legend. Legend quickly looks away, a parade of heat tramping onto his face.

"Uh…Legend, you good?"

"…yeah."

"Okay."

Legend keeps his gaze trained on the floor of the elevator, his eyes only occasionally darting toward Dallas's face. The boy from 10 is staring out the window, idly tapping his fingers on his left leg. He's not sure what it is about Dallas, but Legend can't bring himself to trust him. Well, he's never had a very easy time trusting people; there's no reason for it, but it's just how it is. He doesn't trust Dallas. He doesn't trust Leia-Eve. He's never trusted anybody in his life, and it sure as hell isn't happening now.

The elevator doors woosh open on District 5's floor, making Legend jump in surprise. He hurries out of the carriage, forcing himself to keep his gaze trained forward. He spots Solana sitting with her mentor, Neo, at the island, deep in discussion. Sparing them no second thought, he walks out onto the balcony. The late evening sun rests lazily on the horizon in the distance, the sky itself clogged by light and smog. He tiredly drops into a sitting position, leaning against the glass door in an attempt to avoid Alexandru coming after him again.

After a few moments, Legend hops to his feet and walks over to the railing. Carefully, he lifts one leg over, then the other, until he's standing on the very edge, barely even holding onto the rail.

It would only be a six story-fall. He's not even sure if that's far enough to kill him, but god_damnit_ does he want to throw himself to the dogs. To free fall, to sail through the air until the inevitable _splat_ against the pavement.

He wants to do it, so bad.

Yet he doesn't.

As always.

Nothing matters anymore. He only has to make it a few more days, just tomorrow and that's it…but he can't. He can't just bide his time anymore. He _has_ to do something. And that something may just be throwing himself off of a building…

Legend leans forward on his toes, his eyes roaming over the buildings surrounding him. It's not an ideal place to die, but it doesn't really matter…

"L-Legend? What are you doing?"

Legend whips around suddenly, nearly losing his footing and sending himself falling prematurely. "Solana! W-what are _you_ doing?"

Solana takes a step closer. "Are you…are you trying to kill yourself?"

Legend swings a leg back over the railing. "No. I don't know why you would think that."

"Don't lie to me, Legend," Solana growls, her voice suddenly low and dark. "I've seen you on that bridge. I didn't think it was you—I assumed there were just two sad, good-looking guys…never mind. But now I have confirmation! You're trying to kill yourself!"

"No I'm not!" Legend cries, leaning forward slightly. He peers over the edge for a moment before he feels Solana grab onto the back of his shirt. "Solana, stop!"

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself!"

"Why not? It's one less person you have to get through to get home!"

"I don't care! It doesn't matter whether I have to go through one person or seventy; I'm still not going to let you throw yourself off of a building!"

Legend starts to pull himself out of Solana's grip, leaning further out over the edge. "Let go!"

"No!" Solana shouts, pulling harder on the back of Legend's vest.

"Solana, stop! If I want to die, then I want to die!" Legend cries, gripping her wrists in an attempt to wrestle her hands off of his vest.

"No one wants to die!" Solana yells back, giving an extra hard tug which almost sends Legend flying backward over the rail.

"Well I do!" Legend shouts, pressing the palms of his hands on the top of the railing.

"Legend, stop!" Solana screams.

But Legend doesn't listen. He pushes off from the rail, and suddenly he's airborne. He catches sight of the glass door bursting open as Neo and Alexandru rush out onto the balcony, but there's nothing they can do. He's already getting that feeling of weightlessness—he's falling.

He's falling.

Holy shit, he's falling.

He's going to hit the ground.

He's going to die.

_Finally_.

…right? This is what he wants? He wants to die, he wants to fall, he wants to hit the ground and not have to think and not even have to exist? That's what he wants? Right? _Right?_

He's sure that's what he wants. He just finally had the courage to act upon it. All of those mornings he spent sitting on the edge of a bridge, wanting to throw himself to the mercy of the waves but never daring to. Well, he finally dared to. He's finally going to be free, and it's going to be wonderful.

Surely it's going to be wonderful.

Wind rushes through his ears as he falls. The lights and honks of the cars below him get louder every second. It's only going to be another few moments. Only another few moments. Another few moments. Another few moments.

He hits the ground.

**A/N: Plot twist! Legend never even reaches the Games! So, no, he does not in fact throw himself to the mines. **

**1\. What do you think will be Legend's reaction to waking up?**

**2\. Do you think he'll ever tell anyone about his endless retries?**

**3\. Was Solana right to try to stop him from killing himself?**

**4\. Should Neo and Alexandru have noticed before they did?**

**And thus ends Attempt #1. It's finally time for things to become interesting.**

**-Amanda**


	6. Vital Signs

_**Attempt #2!**_

_Read between the lines_

_What's fucked up and every thing's all right_

_Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive_

_And I walk alone_

Legend wakes up screaming.

He shouldn't do that.

Because he shouldn't wake up.

Not standing up.

In a moving train.

Surrounded by his mentors, escort and District partner.

That's not how it works.

That's not how _anything _works!

He should be dead. He should have broken his neck on impact. If he ever woke up, it should be in a hospital bed with a neck brace and beeping heart machine. Not on a train, heading to the place he just threw himself off of.

"Legend? Are you okay? What's happening?" Alexandru says, grabbing Legend on the shoulders and looking him in the eyes. "Are you high? Are you—are you just crazy?"

"I should be dead," Legend says, his voice hollow and empty.

"What?" Alexandru, Neo and Solana chorus in unison, their voices various degrees of surprised.

"I should be dead," Legend repeats in a firmer tone. "I should be dead."

"…Legend?" Alexandru says, suddenly looking at him as if he has contracted a deadly disease. "Answer me, please—are you high?"

"I should be dead."

"I got that already," Alexandru says. "Why should you be dead, Legend?"

"I should be dead."

Alexandru shakes his head and turns to Neo. "Why don't you take Solana into another car and…discuss things there? I can handle Legend."

"Are you sure?" Neo asks, leaning around Alexandru's shoulder to stare at Legend. "He doesn't seem…okay."

"No, I'll be fine," Alexandru affirms before turning back to Legend. "Legend, why don't you come sit down on the couch? We can figure this out from there."

"I should be dead," Legend repeats like a broken record as he cautiously perches on one of the couch cushions. "I should be dead."

"Legend, why should you be dead?"

"I should be dead."

Alexandru leans down in front of Legend and meets his eyes. "Legend, tell me why you should be dead."

"I jumped off a building." Legend stares hollowly at the ground, his eyes wide and empty. He saw his own, pitiful life flash before his eyes. He watched the ground rush toward him at a scarily fast speed. He felt the impact before everything went black and he came to on the train. He heard Solana scream his name as he fell. He died. He knows he died. It couldn't have been a dream. It was too long, too detailed, too realistic to be a dream. "I hit the ground. I know I did."

"Legend, please tell me if you're high."

"I'm not high!" Legend yells. "I died."

"Okay, Legend. You died. How did you die?"

"I already told you. I jumped off a building," Legend says impatiently, his eyes still trained firmly on the ground. "I hit the ground. I died. There's no way I could have survived. There's no way I could be back here."

Alexandru sighs and leans back against the couch cushions. "Legend, you have to understand that those kinds of things don't just happen. People don't just keep living. It doesn't work like that."

"But…you said the games never give people what they want—"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Legend," Alexandru says, shaking his head. "We've never met before."

"Yes, we have!" Legend cries. "We talked on the back of the train…you told me about the Games… you told me that you can't throw yourself off of the train. It was too real to have been a dream."

"These things happen, Legend," Alexandru says, but even he doesn't sound convinced. "Sometimes things don't make sense. They don't always have to."

"But I should be dead, Alexandru," Legend says, dragging his hands down his face. "I should have died when I hit the ground. I shouldn't even be here. It doesn't make sense."

Alexandru shakes his head and stands up. "Sometimes it's just how things work out. Come find me if you'd like to talk about the Games, but I'd recommend you get some rest, for now."

Legend jumps to his feet. "I can't sleep now! I should be dead…"

"That's okay, Legend, just lay down. I promise that everything is going to work out…" Alexandru trails off, staring off into space for a long moment before he snaps back to reality. "Yes, well, I need to go speak with Neo, so I'll just be a few cars down if you need me…"

Legend watches him go before he starts to pace the car. "I should be dead. There is no logical explanation, no way I could be alive, no way, no way, no way. I hit the ground. I should have broken my neck on impact. I should have gotten brain damage. I should have been paralyzed. I should have been injured in _some way_! It couldn't have been a dream…there's no explanation for when I would have had it. People don't just have dreams in the middle of conversation. It doesn't make sense."

"Legend?"

"What?" Legend snaps, his head whipping up to find himself face-to-face with Solana Gepler.

"Are you talking to yourself?"

"Yes. Now what do you want?"

"Are you okay? You were acting kind of strange earlier…" Solana looks at him with real concern in her eyes, which is certainly an emotion that Legend is unaccustomed to.

"Yes. I'm fine. Leave me alone." Legend straightens his posture and returns to his pacing, expecting that Solana will take his advice and leave him be. After a moment, he pauses and looks at her. "You're still here?"

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Solana asks quietly. "Like, withdrawal symptoms or something?"

"I'm not high, Solana," Legend growls, crossing his arms. He needs to get answers. He can't be wasting his time talking to Solana. There has to be something he can do to fix this.

Maybe this is just some bizarre, awful afterlife. Legend imagined the afterlife as just a black void, where he could just float and not even have to exist if he didn't want to. This is not what he thought it would be. Really, it's the only explanation that makes even a tiny bit of sense. How else would he be here? But Solana isn't dead. Alexandru isn't dead. Neo isn't dead. There's no way that they would be here unless they all jumped immediately following Legend's demise.

It just doesn't make any sense.

"Please, Solana, just let me be," Legend says, shaking his head. "I don't need any help."

"Okay," Solana says after a few moments. "Well…I'm here if you ever want to talk."

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to be just fine," Legend says as he makes his way out of the car. Solana can't provide anything for him…she didn't even stop him from jumping. If that even did happen. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe he was just daydreaming about how it would go. Maybe it was just a…a…a something, damnit! Something happened. Something changed, something stopped him from dying, something came down from the heavens above and told him to try again.

He doesn't need any restarts. He just wants to die.

But it seems like that's going to be harder than he thought.

…

"_He knows, Neo, he knows."_

"_That's not possible."_

"_He said he jumped off of building, Neo. What other explanation is there?"_

"_Well, that's just not how it works, Alexandru. I'm sure you should understand by now—"_

"_I thought I did, but he proves it all wrong? What sick game are they playing at?"_

"_Alec, please. The Gamemakers work in mysterious ways but I'm sure there's a reason for it…"_

"_Sure…just like the reasons for everything else."_

"_Don't be bitter, Alec. Just be glad that we got a lucky one…"_

"_He's not lucky if he's going to remember it all, Neo. Kid's fucked. Absolutely fucked."_

"_Perhaps."_

…

**A/N: Woo for monthly update! Anyways, this was our first look at Attempt #2, and while it was a lot of dialogue, I can promise that things will pick up once they reach the Capitol again. **

**1\. Should Legend have kept his secret to himself?**

**2\. Is Alexandru right to dismiss what Legend was saying?**

**3\. Should Legend have taken Solana's help? **

**4\. How do you think Legend will fair in the Games now?**

**-Amanda**


End file.
